A not so bad day
by ShirotaMahiru
Summary: "Somewhere along the way, I began to wonder what to stab him with in case he shows up. Forks would work better, but the spoon was a lot closer to me." . . . . In which Ochako's date ditched her again. #IzuOcha week


**A/N: A one shot for IzuOcha week. :}**

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 **Disclaimer: I don't own Boku no Hero Academia.**

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"He didn't come." Ochako pushed open the door, twisted the earphone connected to her cell into her ear, hit the lights and just looked. Home. It was so incredibly good to be home.

"I'm sorry." Izuku murmurs softly and Ochako felt a little better.

Ochako's boyfriend ditched their date again.

She sat on the stoop in her doorway and began taking off her high heels. "I'm sad, miserable, and I feel like an idiot—a sorry excuse for a human being who no one loves, and my feet hurt."

"I feel ugly." She admitted as she remembered the empty chair in front of her. The apologetic looks she received from nearby tables. The feeling of eating dinner in a family restaurant by herself. When she left the establishment, a deep, throbbing ache in the pit of her stomach began to grow. It hurts—a slow, twisting twinge in the heart—yet she couldn't cry.

"You're not ugly."

Now a single statement of assurance from him created a lump in her throat. "The waitress kept asking if I'm ready to order." She continued, leaving her shoes in the doorway. She ditched the pearls in her ears as she walked towards her room. "The tenth time she asked, she informed me that if I didn't order for an hour straight I have to leave the restaurant. Afraid to be kicked out, I ordered something randomly. He was the one who loves that restaurant yet he ditched me."

A half-laugh, half-sob caught in her throat, had her voice sounds pathetic. "I can't even read Italian."

She stops, covers her mouth with her hand. She didn't want to cry. Izuku waited patiently as she took a minute to calm herself.

"I waited for a very long time." She began again and pulled the top drawer of her dresser. She retrieved the velvet box Tsuyu gave her on her birthday and tenderly placed the jewelry back where they belong. She won't be using any of these for a while. She shoved the drawer back and walked towards her restroom.

She switched the light open and checked her face on the bathroom mirror. She still had her make up on. She looked pretty but her chocolate-colored eyes were dim, sad and tired. "Somewhere along the way, I began to wonder what to stab him with in case he shows up. Forks would work better, but the spoon was a lot closer to me." Ochako laughed a little at that. Imagining her boyfriend's death was funny but only just for a second.

"When I was already in the car, he called. I was angry but I was already prepared to forgive him. He said sorry for not showing up, he was busy with work and oh, he wanted to break up."

She stared at the bottle of makeup remover in a daze, her vision began to blur. "I don't even know what to say. . ."

"Ochako. . ."

His sympathetic tone snapped her back from her musings, had her hands moving. She began to remove the make-up from her face, her lips trembled. "H-he said we didn't love each other in the first place." She wiped the red from her lips with angry strokes, wiping the hue in her cheeks with a harsh caress. "I agree but it doesn't make it hurt less."

"I was trying to make it work this time. . ." She confessed. The words drifted away, spoken so softly, Izuku could barely hear them.

"I'm sorry. . ." Deku said, his words in soft whispers. "I wanted you to know that you're not alone in this."

A realization had her perking up immediately.

"Ah! Sorry!" Her voice was cheerful again. It sounded forced to the both of them. She waved her hands in embarrassment even though he couldn't see her. "I'm sorry for rambling and telling you all this! I-I'm sorry. I just want to talk to somebody—"

"No. It's okay." Izuku quickly assures, his voice firm yet gentle. "You need to talk it out. It'll make you feel better."

She held her head in shame, regardless. "I'm really sorry I'm unloading all this to you. . ."

"It's fine, Ochako. I'm always here. I'm glad you called me."

"Thank you. . ." She released a deep sigh. Now that the sadness had passed, loneliness takes its place. All of a sudden, her apartment seemed too empty and far too quiet for her. "What do you usually do when you're sad? They say eat chocolates."

She crumpled to the floor, wrapped her arms around herself. Suddenly she felt really tired. She looked at the tiled floor with empty eyes. "I need a hug. . ." It was a sad whisper, nonetheless, Izuku heard.

Deku didn't say anything though she waited for a long moment.

Her phone buzzed. She pulled her phone from her pocket. It died. At the middle of her talk with Izuku, her phone died. Great.

Always—every darn time—this happens. Nothing goes right with Deku. They always had missed chances, had a hundred of lost opportunities and they never meet in between. And here she was, having no one to talk to when she was heartbroken, seeking comfort from her unrequited first love.

Maybe she really deserved that harsh treatment with her former lover. Maybe she never truly had loved him because she was still in love with her best friend.

She realized this now and regrets why she had.

Well, it didn't matter anyway. She gave up a long time ago.

He was her Deku and he'll only be her best friend and that's fine—that was her mantra anyway. Sometimes it works. Sometimes she drowned in the deep empty abyss of loneliness and her futile effort to ignore the reason only make it worse, had her pining for something she knew but was trying really hard to ignore. It made her find someone else - had her proving that what she and Deku have is not as special as she thinks it is.

So far, at the age of 23, all of her relationships never worked out.

Her doorbell rang while she was changing into her pajamas.

It must be Tsuyu, she thought as she walked towards the front door. Her roommate must have forgotten something and went back to retrieve it. Asui's on night shift and her office is nearby so usually, she went back to their apartment to change or to drink a cup of coffee.

Maybe she forgot her keys, Uraraka thought as she pressed the intercom. "Asui?"

The sound of wheezing. A loud exhale then, "It's Deku."

Surprised, it took her seconds to realize that yes, it was his voice and Deku was outside at her front door right now, not her roommate. Her hands were quick and trembling as she opens the door.

It really was Izuku. He was leaning in her doorway, panting. Ochako blinked up at him, flabbergasted.

"You live 8 miles away." She mumbles, still astonished.

"Yeah . . ."

"You don't have a car."

"I ran." He gave her a tired but satisfied smile.

"Y-you. . ." She was lost for words.

Izuku took a deep breath and straightened. Shyly, he opened his arms towards her. "So, you said you needed a hug?"

Ochako just looked at him, her eyes glacial. His white shirt was drenched with sweat, his wet bangs were sticking on his forehead. His eyes had never looked this enchanting green before.

Upon her silence, Deku took it as something else and notice that he was indeed sweating and it must be gross to embrace him after his run right away. He started flushing; the tips of his ears turning red, his hands flailing in embarrassment.

"A-ah! I'm sweaty, of course you wouldn't want to. Sorry. I should've probably taken a taxi—"

She ran into his arms and wrapped her arms around him, a stupid smile on her face.


End file.
